


Discord

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha Dean, Class Issues, Gender Roles, M/M, Musician Castiel, No mpreg, Omega Sam Winchester, Power Imbalance, Social Commentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-14 00:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5722024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a very traditional alpha who has a prestigious background in the arts. Alpha Dean and his omega brother Sam are hunters who have little experience with or patience for tradition. They've got better things to worry about. Like hunting whatever's been attacking students at a conservative fine arts academy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Motel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SharpieStealr8200](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharpieStealr8200/gifts).



> A birthday request by V. Hope you enjoy.

The most intimidating administrator at the Academy for Fine Arts was a blue-eyed alpha who looked down his nose at everyone he encountered, regardless of their status, designation, title or even height. He never smiled. He rarely spoke. And no one knew a thing about him personally.

Professionally, Castiel Força was the Academy's greatest trophy. Just his name brought prestige and donations to the school. Everyone in the music world knew who he was...professionally.

"So nobody knows anything about the guy?"

Sam shrugged. "Evidently he's a private person," he confirmed, slipping out of his tie, and unbuttoning his collar.

Dean shook his head. "He's sketchy."

"You think everyone is sketchy."

The older man flicked his eyes at his brother. "Hey. That paranoia has kept us alive for all this time. Same as Dad."

"Yeah, well, his paranoia got him killed," Sam mumbled moodily. He sat down at the little table and opened his laptop. His shoulders rolled, and he tipped his head to crack his neck.

"His curiosity got him killed, man. His paranoia was well-earned and served him well too."

"Whatever. He died right when we needed him."

Dean was sighing. "We always needed him. Don't do that. There was never a good time for the guy to die. And it's been eight months since we burned him. Can we please go one day without this argument?"

The difference was that Dean didn't need to talk it through. Dean's policy of burying everything deep and letting it out in spurts of violence and alcoholism, just like the paranoia, had always worked for Dean, as it had always worked for John. But Sam was different. He didn't know if it was his physiology or his personality, but he couldn't just feel grief and not discuss it. Dean knew that, and if it had been anyone other than their father, Dean surely would have been the first in line to give Sam exactly what he needed in terms of dealing with it. But it was their father, and Dean needed to deal his way just as much as Sam needed to, and the two were at odds. It was making Dean aggravated, and Sam passive-aggressive.

"You asking or telling me?" he snapped.

Dean threw his suit jacket onto the bed. "You know what?" he growled. "I'm telling you. You're going to be a bitch, then I'm going to be an alpha. That what you want? I wanted to work a case, but you, you've got to twist everything into...into your damn omega abandonment issues!"

Sam's mouth dropped.

His brother saw the shocked hurt on his face, and it threw him off his anger, but he tried to continue anyway. "You-you heard me. And I don't discount what you're feeling, man, but think about it from my side, right? I mean-Okay, the guy died saving my ass. Mine. Okay? I wish to god I had died instead, but I didn't get a vote. You never said it, but you probably wish that too. It-it's...I can't stand to talk about it, Sammy. Okay? I can't. What do you think it feels like to know I got Dad killed, that I should be dead instead of him, and not only did I kill my father...Man, the worst part of it all is that I didn't just kill my father. I killed yours." His voice cracked at last, and he was almost completely hoarse by the end. "So every time you bring up how he died or wanting to talk about it, all I can think is I let down my little brother, and I just...I just can't, Sammy. I know you need it, you need to talk it through, talk till you purge everything, I know that. That's natural for you. But it ain't natural for me, and I can't. I tried."

Sam's eyes were low now. He was absorbing Dean's grief and guilt, his shame at not being what his brother needed. In a strange way, this was the closest they had been to talking the way Sam needed to. "I know you did," he said quietly.

"Do you?" Dean asked, and it was evident that he needed Sam to confirm this.

"Yeah. You try all the time. And I get why you can't, and...and I don't really blame you for it."

Green eyes looked hopeful.

"But, Dean...I don't have anyone else."

It wasn't an accusation, but Dean flinched under it anyway. "I'm so sorry, man."

Sam shook his head. "You gotta stop apologizing, okay? That's not what I want. Not really. And, Dean?"

The emotion, and the strength battling against it, poured off Dean in waves. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad it wasn't you."

He took in a shuddered breath, then sighed it out. "I'm not." It was said almost without a voice.

Sam shrugged. "You're right. You don't get a vote." He smiled sadly then. "Go on. Get washed up. If we're working a case, let's work a case. And curb your alpha before you get back, or your bitchy omega brother's gonna kick your ass."

Dean growled at him, but his face displayed so much relief and gratitude that he was being dismissed from the conversation that he didn't need to say anything.

Sam sighed after him. He could hear the shower running almost immediately.

He tried to focus his mind on the case, to research while his brother got himself cleaned up and settled down. By the time he returned to the room, he would be in full case mode, pretending their discussion had never happened, and Sam would be expected to do the same. Sam rubbed his own neck, which he recognized as a habit borne of self-gratification, simulating being nuzzled by an alpha, and it frustrated him. Some days he wished he weren't quite so educated.

Or so alone.

***


	2. Memories

When they were pups, Sam could remember Dean telling him that things weren't like this in other families. What "this" was varied by the day, but it was like Dean felt he needed to keep reminding Sam that they were freaks, outliers and outcasts. He didn't want Sam thinking anything about their lives was the way others lived. When he was younger, he had resented the constant reminders, and Dean had gradually stopped pointing it out. But now that he was older, Sam understood. It was yet another way of looking out for Sammy, keeping him safe. 

The rest of the world did not live that way at all. 

For one thing, the fact that he legally belonged to his father in a way that Dean didn't had never come up among the Winchester family. It wasn't until Sam was fourteen and Dean was eighteen that John had even said anything about it, and it wasn't even directly to Sam.

"Of course, your brother is a different story," John was saying when Sam approached with two beers and a soda. 

He handed them their drinks with a frown. "What's that mean?"

John glanced at him, but looked back to Dean as if they were sharing a secret. 

Dean shrugged. He had turned eighteen the day before, but they had been too busy with the vengeful spirit in Tallahassee to celebrate. "Nothing, Sammy."

Their father drank his beer quietly. The two older men stared up at the night sky from the hood of the Impala for a long time. Finally, John gestured to Sam to bring him another beer from the cooler. His voice carried well enough for Sam to listen as he fetched a bottle from the back. 

"Your brother...When he turns eighteen, he won't get what you have. You know that. He'll still belong to me in the eyes of the law."

"Yes, sir."

Sam looked up at the dark figures discussing his future. What were they talking about?

"Might come a time I get myself tangled with a spirit like we just fought-"

"Dad-"

The voice came soft but firm. "Let me talk, Dean."

"Yes, sir."

John cleared his throat and spoke louder. "Sam? Time for you to catch some sleep, son."

Sam stepped lightly to his side and handed over the bottle. "Not late," he mumbled. 

"Go on. Curl up. You're a growing pup. You ever want to grow into those feet of yours, you better take sleep when you can get it. Any hunter will tell you, sleep when you can."

"Yes, sir," he sighed. But when he got into the back seat, he left a window open so he could listen. 

It was a while before John continued. That's the way it was with moon gazing. There was something about it that calmed an alpha, and made him slow down. 

Finally, Sam heard a sigh. "Come a day, Dean, when I finally run myself out of luck. Nearly happened in Florida."

"Yes, sir," Dean said quietly. Sam knew he was remembering the way John had almost ended up as victim number four. Sam had never been more afraid in his life. But Dean had saved them all with quick thinking and sharp shooting. He had destroyed the thing that was holding the spirit to the house by shooting it from across the room. Fire was best, but it turned out that when a tiny glass thimble was shot with a .45, it was as good as burned. 

"And when that happens, Sam will belong to you."

The child frowned. What did that mean?

"Yes, sir."

"You can't let him get caught up in some alpha who ain't part of the life. Any alpha who don't know...He'll expect him to be something he's not. And when he isn't..."

"Yeah," Dean said, as if he had given it thought himself. "Yeah, I know. He'll punish him for it."

"And if they're bonded, there's nothing you can legally do about it. Not that your brother couldn't stand to be cuffed in the head sometimes, but it won't stop there. Some alphas...When they punish insolence, it's brutal."

"I never cared much about what was legal, Dad," Dean growled. "Some mutt hurts Sam, and I'll rip his freaking lungs out."

John chuckled. "That's my boy," he said. There was the sound of a bottle cap being tossed onto pavement. "Look out for your brother, son."

"Yes, sir."

The night was quiet then, and Sam fell asleep fretting about what it all meant.


	3. Administrator

He didn't care what Sam said about this guy's musical genius. It wasn't like the man was Richard Plant, and he made Dean's scruff bristle. 

For one thing, the guy refused to speak or even look at Sam. 

"I know nothing more about the situation than my assistant. You'll direct any further questions to him. I'm very busy."

Dean gave the man a cold smile. "That's not how this works, Mr. Força. See, anyone could be a suspect or a victim. That includes you and your assistant."

The administrator waved this off. "My assistant is an omega, Mr. Schon. He is hardly capable of malice of the degree to which we are experiencing. Personally, I'm convinced the last victim was also the one carrying out the regrettable acts. He was an odd young man, who fit in poorly with the rest of the students. And he was noticeably less talented than most."

Dean snorted. "Hear that, Agent Perry? It's criminal to not be a genius around here."

"I heard," Sam confirmed quietly. 

Castiel's eyes narrowed at the sound of Sam's voice, but he looked at Dean with distaste. "It is not criminal to walk through these doors without some level of intelligence and value, though perhaps it should be. That might have prevented this entire pointless conversation."

Dean's eyes went wide, and only Sam's hand on his back prevented him from advancing on the musician. 

The other alpha noticed, and smirked. "Not often an omega leashes his alpha, is it, Agent Schon? This discussion is over."

Dean watched him turn to walk away, and felt his blood boiling, but Sam spoke up. 

"It isn't, Dr. Força. I have another question."

When the man turned back to face them, his blue stare pierced through the younger brother's stubborn defiance. 

To Dean's great shock, Sam lowered his eyes and dipped his chin. The older hunter's lips parted slowly. He had never seen the alpha who could make his kid brother submit. Not even John had accomplished that since the omega had been eleven years old. In their line of work, there had been a hundred nasty, brutish alphas who had tried to stare down Sam Winchester, but it had only ever made Sam stare them down harder when they tried. In fact, one of Dean's simple pleasures in life was watching his brother succeed in making strong alphas do for him what he was doing for Castiel Força right now. 

"You use my correct title, unlike your alpha. But do not presume to speak to me unless you've been invited to do so. I will answer your question so long as you agree to ask it and behave in a civilized way in my presence, which you are apparently unaccustomed to doing."

Sam licked his lips gingerly. Dean looked from one man to the other, unsure what his role was here. And what was Sam waiting-

"Now. You may speak, omega."

Dean's eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped lower. 

Sam glanced at Dean in his periphery without looking up from the floor between himself and this unique alpha. "The students have their own personal instruments. But the school provides practice equipment as well. Have there been any new instruments added to the inventory? Antiques, maybe?"

Dean nodded slowly. He had not been thinking of cursed objects, but maybe Sam was onto something.

Castiel's eyebrow peaked. 

The omega kept his gaze low and respectful, and waited in patience. 

"Just one," he said at last. "Something of my own. Why?"

Sam took a breath. "What is it, please?"

Dean scoffed at the last word, but the other alpha glowered at him. "It offends you that your omega speaks with a dignified attitude in public?"

The older brother snarled. "He ain't my omega. He's my partner."

Castiel hummed in disapproval. "How progressive of you."

Dean's face burned in anger. "He's not my...What offends me is you standing there-"

"Dean."

The quiet voice stopped him cold. It was said firmly, in a way that made it immediately clear that he was embarrassing his little brother. He tried to take a breath. 

It didn't help that Castiel seemed amused. "The leash tightens," he smirked. Then he turned back to Sam. "It is a violin which has been in my family many generations. I have agreed to loan it for display in the school's gallery. It is something of a...treasure of mine." He continued staring at the large omega. "Other than that, I know of nothing the school has acquired beyond its usual purchases of replacement items."

Sam took a breath. It sounded odd to Dean, a slow intake of breath that almost seemed to ask a question. He wasn't sure what was strange about it. But something about it made Dean suddenly think maybe Sam needed...something. 

Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to understand immediately. "Yes, omega. You may speak."

Dean's teeth were officially on edge. 

The weird thing was that Sam seemed to react calmly to this alpha. "Dr. Força, it would make me very happy to be taught more about your family's violin."

Green eyes flicked between them suspiciously. What was Sam getting at, and why wouldn't he just say it?

The musician let slip the ghost of a smile. "Would it?" he wondered. "I doubt your alpha would appreciate me giving you a tour."

Dean's eyes burned a glare into the other alpha. 

"Dr. Força," Sam said quietly, "you're correct that I belong to him. But only because he is family. I belong to him because I'm not paired."

There was an almost imperceptible darkening of Castiel's eyes at this news. He nodded once. "I see. Still, you are his. I can't believe he would agree to any time spent alone with me."

Dean wondered when it had become assumed that he wouldn't be joining them on this tour. But he bristled at the notion that Sam needed his permission. "He's a grown man. He can go wherever he wants with whoever he wants." 

It wasn't until Castiel's lips curled in amusement that he realized he had been baited into giving his blessing to whatever this strange alpha had in mind. 

But what did it matter? Sam was a grown man-overgrown-and he could take care of himself. He only belonged to Dean because the law said so. 

"Thank you, alpha," Sam said with lowered eyes, but a laugh hidden under the politeness. Dean wanted to kick him. "I'll call when I need a pickup."

Dean was fairly certain Sam had just gotten himself picked up. He hoped this was still about the case.


	4. Etiquette

Sam wasn't entirely sure how they had ended up eating. 

It was difficult enough remembering all the things good omegas were supposed to do and be while walking around the school with its administrator. He was certain he was going to mess something up irreparably now that they were sitting in the coffee shop. 

Castiel smiled at him. He had been far more amiable since Dean had left. Sam knew Dean grated on some alphas' nerves just by being himself. He was loathe to say so to Dean, of course. He wasn't entirely certain what it was, but something in Dean's saunter and voice projected the confidence that he was the strongest alpha in any room, so when he faced off against an equally confident alpha, it was like he automatically issued a challenge without even realizing that was how he was perceived. 

Normally, Sam had no objection to Dean's well-earned arrogance, so long as it wasn't turned on him. Dean's ability to rile a cocky alpha or intimidate a weaker one without even trying had come in handy many times. And Sam was quite intimidating himself when he needed to be. His size and strength, and the way alphas and omegas alike tended to underestimate him, all played to his advantage. 

But Castiel Força required a different set of skills, and Sam was not above using them, if it helped him on a case. Just because Dean had never been witness to it before, it didn't mean Sam had never done it. 

What bothered Sam was that it had not begun as an act. When he had demanded one last question, and Castiel's glare had cut through him, every dormant instinct flipped on like a switch. His gaze and chin lowered without thought. And he found that he was incapable of speaking until Castiel had given him permission to do so. It was an upsetting phenomenon, and it had never happened before. Beyond that, Sam had figured that playing a good omega would move the case along far more than Dean's posturing. So he had played. And gradually, in the hour he spent walking the school's practice rooms and gallery, he had found himself becoming eerily more comfortable in his role. 

"You may speak, omega. So long as you do so with respect and good judgement, and to no one else, you may speak freely during our meal."

Sam licked his lips anxiously. It was a relief not to have to continue subtly indicating that he would like to ask something, then awaiting permission. It was exhausting. "Thank you, Dr. Força. Please call me Sam."

Castiel nodded indulgently. "Sam. And while there is no one to hear it, you may call me Castiel or Cas."

"Thank you, Cas."

The man sipped at his coffee, and tapped at Sam's plate with his spoon. "You're not eating. Is something wrong with the food or the company?"

His cheeks burned a soft pink. "I'm nervous," he admitted. 

The musician's smile spread. It was nearly sympathetic. "Sam, you aren't accustomed to proper etiquette. That's clear. And it isn't your fault. Your alpha should have taught you."

Sam frowned and opened his mouth to argue. 

"Wait! Wait," Castiel said quickly. "Let me qualify that. How you behave alone with the one to whom you belong is between the two of you. It would be in bad taste for me to comment on that. But in society, there are expectations. It is one thing to choose to defy those expectations. But it is quite another to be ignorant of them. It is a disservice to you to not teach you what you must know in order to survive among polite society." 

Sam stared at his plate. "I won't apologize for the way I was raised or how Dean and I communicate."

"Nor should you."

He frowned in confusion. 

"Sam, never apologize for who you are or where you come from. You shouldn't even apologize for the way you carry yourself. But neither will I apologize for demanding courtesy of a higher level. I teach students, not just how to play music, but how to survive the world of music. If they choose to pursue careers in the field, conservative views and expectations are inevitable parts of their future. If I allow them to see me answering to an unfamiliar omega in a way that is beneath my status, they will think that is acceptable behavior for an alpha. Whether it is fair or reasonable can be debated. But it is a reality of the world of orchestral and chamber music. They do not need to agree with it. But until they have established credibility among their peers, they must be able to perform interpersonally as well as musically among high society."

"Dean and I don't have much need for high society manners."

Castiel smirked. "Perhaps not. But it is to your credit if you can mix well among all types of people. Doors close to you if you cannot play by rules. No one suggests you must like the game in order to participate."

Sam found that this made far more sense to him than he had expected it to. "So...you aren't as conservative as you seem?"

The alpha shrugged. He sipped at his coffee for a moment, then spoke again quietly. "Sam, I'm an alpha with both impressive lineage and professional merit. I am in an upper echelon in our society. It would be unrealistic for me to be a progressive unless I were willing to alienate my peers."

The large omega listened without a word. 

"And," Castiel added thoughtfully, "I do appreciate an omega who does not try my temper simply to do so. I am hardly uneducated. I know omegas are just as likely to be intelligent and strong in character as alphas. But we are physiologically different, and I prefer not to have my own instincts dismissed as..."

"Assholish?" Sam raised his eyebrow if not his eyes. 

The alpha was smirking again. It was in his voice. "Yes. I would ask that I am judged by my adherence to my own physiology no harsher than you would be for following your own needs and mind."

"So you think I should forgive your rudeness just like you forgive mine."

"Exactly."

Sam snorted. At last, he looked Castiel directly in the eyes. "The difference is that I'm supposed to need forgiveness for acting just how you would act in the same situation, and you want forgiveness for not choosing to act the way you demand that I do."

He watched as Castiel turned this over in his head. The blue eyes narrowed, and Sam had to give him credit for trying to work out the omega's argument before dismissing it. 

"You follow your instincts to dominate and call it nature. I follow mine to not submit, and you call it poor etiquette."

The musician nodded slowly. "I don't...I don't disagree on any point. But the fact remains that there are expectations, especially among higher society circles, and omegas and alphas both must know what they are if they are to succeed."

"I don't look down on any omega who chooses to submit and feels that the etiquette and rules fit their own personalities. What I resent is the assumption that every one of us is secretly awaiting the right alpha to shove us into a kneel and give us a collar."

There was something like fascination on the alpha's face. "So you don't deny that some omegas do choose that."

"Of course. And I don't deny that most alphas prefer an omega who honestly wants to be what society says he should. But just like women come in different flavors, Cas, so do omegas. Have you ever been in a relationship with a woman?"

Castiel's eyes were sparkling with intelligent curiosity. Sam tried not to notice how blue they were. "Once. In undergrad, I was with a woman named Meg."

"And what is the physiological purpose of mating with a female?"

He shrugged. "Offspring."

"And is that the only reason you were with Meg? Is she raising your pups somewhere?"

"Certainly not!" 

Sam thought he might have seen a shudder at the thought. "Then why should physiology be the only thing between an alpha and his omega? That pairing doesn't produce pups. I'm sterile as an omega. So? What's the physiological point of an alpha-omega or even a female-omega pairing?"

Castiel's mouth pulled into a frown, but it was not a sign of displeasure so much as concentration. In fact, Sam got the odd impression that Castiel was enjoying this intellectual questioning. 

"Do you need help?" Sam teased gently. 

Castiel's gaze shot up, but Sam's smile calmed it immediately. He licked his lips. "An omega is the alpha's home. He is what centers him and keeps him balanced. An omega brings comfort and purges negative emotions, neutralizes overwhelming territoriality and minimizes violent tendencies, just by being near."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Great. That's what an omega is for an alpha. What is an alpha for an omega?"

The bright eyes blinked. "Obviously protection."

The smile that spread across Sam's face was one of triumph, and at last he reached for his dessert fork. He even lowered his gaze graciously. "I look like I need protection?"

Castiel was stunned. 

Sam enjoyed a bit of his pie, thinking of how much Dean would like it, and basked in the alpha's confusion. 

"So..." Castiel stopped. Then he took a breath and began again. "So there...So I...You're saying..."

Sam shrugged. 

"There's nothing an alpha can offer you?"

He licked his fork and set it down. "Nothing I've seen so far."

He could see the battle raging in this disciplined alpha's mind, and it was far more delicious than the slice on his plate. 

He smirked, and reached into his pocket. "Hard to convince myself to impress an alpha with my classy manners when I have no need for an alpha." He placed a ten dollar bill and a business card on the table, and stood. "Call me if you think of anything that could help us with the case, Castiel."

Sam had only gotten a few steps before the man was on him, whirling him around.

His heart began pounding in his chest, and adrenaline poured through him as the alpha's hands gripped each arm tightly. There was a third option that registered in Sam's mind that would never be an option for Dean. Fight? Flee? Or submit?

But Castiel's face was less snarl and more hunger. He was breathing shallowly, as if trying to get his alpha under control. When he spoke, the deep voice and growl made Sam shiver against his will. "I want you," came the hiss. "I want you, and I'll make you need me."

A breath stuck in Sam's throat then. He could feel the fight option draining from him, and he was afraid of what that left. His hand touched flat against the alpha's chest to push him away, but it lingered longer than it should have. This alpha hid enormous power under that suit. Most of Sam wanted to feel it break like a wave over him. But a small part in his brain still harbored stubborn pride, and it made him shove, then shake his head. "Força, don't make me embarrass you in public."

The blue eyes flashed with lust and rage. But Castiel dropped his hands. "Go quickly," he warned. "If you stay, I will mark you. Go quickly, but don't run. I won't be able to keep from chasing."

Sam could not resist one last snipe. "I don't run, because I have yet to meet the alpha I couldn't walk away from. Don't bother chasing. You don't scare me."

Sam was halfway down the street, alone, dialing Dean for a pickup, before he realized that wasn't true.


	5. Under the Hammer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The phrase Under the Hammer refers to art and other property going to auction. Hammer is also a musician's play on words here.

Castiel could not sleep like this. 

He tore his blankets off and snarled at nothing. 

"Infuriating omega!" he growled at the dark. He stood out of bed, and stalked directly to the room which housed his instruments. Inside the climate-controlled cabinets, he found his 1783 German beauty. His fingers brushed its spine as they might a lover's. Joseph Rauch Lauten had crafted this one special, just for Castiel Força. He hadn't known it, of course. But he must have known that one day, a musician would come along who would bleed his whole heart into her as he made love to her. His German, he called her, as if that were all she was. His pride and joy.

There were better violins. There was no denying that. But something about this one always drew Castiel back. 

His older brother Michael kept a 1695 Guarneri, a breathtaking soloist, under lock and key. It could pay for a small, furnished home in an upper middle class neighborhood, should he choose to sell or donate it. Castiel felt certain Michael never played it, which bruised the younger man's heart. The middle child, Luke, had asked for it when their father had passed, because he knew its value. 

Castiel remembered Carver holding his hand and whispering. "I would give you the '95, Cas."

He shook his head sadly. "Michael has already laid claim to it, Father."

"But you would play it. Michael will lock it away. Luke would auction it. Even your cousins Gabriel and Raphael would see it as an investment. Let the '72 del Gesù be that. It is insured for nearly five million. Lock that away if you must."

"Michael already has."

Carver scowled. "Kind of your brothers to wait until I've gone before dividing the world between them."

He snorted. 

"It doesn't matter. I had hoped to know the '95 would be played. But you..." Carver smiled fondly at his youngest son. "You are more than content with your German."

"She's powerful, Father. Strong-toned and-"

He laughed until he coughed, then sighed back into his pillows. "Listen to you, Castiel. Defending your poor German. What is its value, Cas? Thirteen thousand?"

"It is priceless," Castiel argued quietly. 

"Only in your hands, and you know that. But a fine piece nonetheless. Michael could never get from that '72, nor even my dear '95, a sound as haunting as what you can pull from your German. Never try to compare her. I love my violins and violas almost like I love my own children, Castiel, but they are only so good as the fingers at the bow. You, Cas, prefer a gorgeous but less rare antique, because it fits your arm and heart. Your older brothers know they will never have what you have. They snatch at an instrument of higher monetary value, because I somehow failed to teach them that the true value of any instrument is found at its soul, not at its auction."

Castiel plucked absently at the strings, checking his beloved instrument without really seeing it. He had played his father to sleep with this instrument on the night he never awoke. Michael and Luke had been busy with angry whispers in their father's den next door, and he refused to allow that negative energy to seep in and taint his father's rest. They were still arguing when Carver sighed for the final time, and Castiel had continued to play, eyes closed against the pain, until dawn. 

It had soothed his father then, and it soothed Castiel now. He did not play, but simply took his instruments one at a time, and went through the meditative process of maintaining them. He began with his German, and moved on to the various other pieces, each of which held various memories for him. 

The del Gesù's lesser cousin, a 1702 Guarneri made in the days of Giuseppe Giovanni Battista Guarneri, the younger son of the great apprentice to Amati, was the violin now on display at the Academy. Castiel had played it just once for an audience, in a solo concert in Cremona before the bishop. Castiel had not been able to pry the '72 from Michael to take back to its historic hometown. So he had played the 1702 in the city where Amati, Stradivari and the Guarneri had built their art empires. And now Carver's 1702 was displayed behind sealed glass for his students and donors to see and gawk at and then ignore for four months. 

He wanted it back home. 

Castiel finally lifted his German again to play. It was his omega. It smelled of home, sounded like comfort and felt like peace. 

Except that today, it wasn't able to calm him as it had always done before. 

He suffered through his own soulless melody for a quarter hour, then sighed in frustration. It was technically perfect. And terrible. 

This infuriating omega was ruining him. 

"I have yet to meet the alpha I couldn't walk away from."

The words taunted him. 

"I look like I need protection? I have no need for an alpha."

Nothing he could offer. Nothing in the world he could offer that insolent, brazen, maddening omega. 

Castiel had to have him. 

He couldn't remember ever wanting anything so much, except the violin in his hands. He had been at the auction, sitting quietly with his father and Michael, when he had seen her. Carver hadn't thought much of her on paper, and Michael had taken one look at the starting bid, snorted and moved on. But Castiel had fallen in love. He had imagined touching it, plucking it, coaxing every sweet and dark sound from it, and it had consumed him in an instant. 

That was how Sam felt. He wanted him, and he had no starting bid as reference. In a family which considered a thirteen thousand dollar instrument to be an impulse buy, it was infuriating to have such an incredible piece of art out of his reach. 

Sam was not the highest class of omega. He was defiant and crass, and no alpha of Castiel's status would have him. But what intrigued Castiel was that this gorgeous, brilliant, mischievous omega would have no alpha of Castiel's class anyway. And that made him entirely irresistible. 

Castiel spent the rest of the night with his German, calculating in his mind what he had to offer as his starting bid.


	6. Trauma

"No victim tonight. Let's go."

Sam startled awake just in time to feel a bag slam into his stomach. He howled breathlessly. 

"What do you keep in there? Bricks? Porn?"

"My laptop," he wheezed. "And lore books."

"Huh." Dean made an impatient movement with his hand. "Violin ain't gonna burn itself."

Sam's eyes flew wide open. "Dude, we're not burning that violin!"

Dean quirked his eyebrow. "Uh. Yeah. We kind of are. After you break into the security system."

He struggled to his feet, throwing on yesterday's discarded jeans frantically. "No! Dean, that thing isn't just an heirloom! It's worth over two million dollars! More now that Castiel has played it!"

The look his brother gave him reflected a mix of disbelief and confusion. "Okay, first? What the hell? A violin gains value by certain people playing it?"

"Yes!"

"O-okay, professor. Second, how the hell much does this dude make as a music teacher?"

Sam snorted. "He's not a music teacher. He's a classical soloist in residence. And an administrator, although as far as I can tell, that's kind of honorary. The school gains a lot of credibility by hosting musicians like that."

"That..." Green eyes blinked several times. "That didn't even come close to answering what I asked. But whatever. Two million dollar fiddle or a bunch of kids' lives, Sammy. It isn't even a question."

Statements like that underlined for Sam both what a good man his brother was, and how short-sighted he could be. "Dude, there are other ways!"

"Cursed object, Sam!"

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

Dean's hands flew up. "Then a spirit attached to it! Even worse! Gotta burn it!"

He sighed. "Dean, look. It isn't a cursed object. Nobody is using it. The kids aren't even near it when they've been killed."

He nodded slowly. "Okay. Good point. Continue."

"Right, so, get this. The case it's in? Lined at the bottom with guess what?"

"Iron?"

Sam touched his nose, to indicate that Dean had it right. 

The older man let out a weary breath and sat on the chair as if he were deflating. "So...not a spirit."

"Or not the violin." He scowled. "And even if it were, there are ways to neutralize it without burning it."

"Yeah, pain in the ass ways. I'm sure it's insured."

Sam shook his head a bit more, and let it go. Clearly, they weren't burning anything tonight.

"What's up with you napping anyway? We're on a job."

The younger man lowered his gaze and looked away, busying himself by sifting through some notes in his bag. "Not feeling well."

Dean shrugged. "Yeah. Well, I'm just pissed off we're back to the beginning here." He dropped onto the bed, and draped an arm over his eyes. "I think it's the musician teacher in residence guy."

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's not Cas."

One eye peeked out at him. "Cas! That what we're calling him?"

The omega's face felt warm suddenly. "Yeah. 'Cause that's his name."

"Really? Because I would have figured you'd be calling him 'freaking alpha' by now."

He hated when Dean watched him like that. "He's not as bad as he seemed at first."

Immediately, Dean sat up and dropped his feet off the bed. "You're kidding. You're into that?"

Sam whirled on him. "Of course not! What, are you crazy? The dude told me not to presume to speak without being spoken to! He talked about my social etiquette like I was a goddamn child! I want nothing to do with him! I'm just saying I don't think he's what's killing the kids, okay?"

"Methinks the-"

"Call me a lady. I dare you."

Dean smirked. "Whatever, dude. I'm not letting you spend any more time with him than we need to anyway."

The younger man bristled. "Letting me? You're not letting me?"

The tired eyes closed in a cringe as Dean sighed. "Dude, I didn't mean-"

"Because I belong to you, right? Because it's up to you if I have any contact with another alpha. Right?"

"Technically, but, Sam-"

"Technically?" Sam roared back. "Technically, yes, I belong to you and you make my decisions for me?"

Dean opened those sharp eyes again, and stared into Sam's. "Enough!" he barked. "You know that isn't how it is with us. I'm your big brother-"

"And I'm a grown man!"

"Obviously! I'm just saying I don't like that particular alpha, and I don't like the idea of you spending any-"

"I will spend time with anyone I choose! Dean, I'm sick of the brother knows best episodes! You would never have put up with it if the roles were reversed!"

Dean snorted, then sighed. "I'd have been the worst omega."

The thought calmed Sam's anger. He shook his head. "No. You'd be a dead omega. You would have pissed off the wrong alpha at the wrong time, and he would have destroyed you long before you learned to fight well enough."

The older hunter looked at him sideways. "How'd you learn that stuff? Dad and I didn't teach you. Mom wasn't there to teach you."

Sam shrugged and lay back down on the bed quietly. "It's just something you figure out," he sighed. "Soon as you realize you're different, you pick up on things, signals from other people about how you're expected to be. Even when they don't say anything. Most people don't. But when an omega speaks in public, you see the surprise in their face, and you realize that's not how it's supposed to be. Then an alpha speaks to another alpha, and the one you belong to blocks the other with their bodies without even realizing it. So you figure out that omegas need to be protected, so they must not be as strong. Then when you have an idea and you try to get into a conversation, you can feel the way the alphas are letting you have your turn, then going back to talk between them, so you figure out that omegas aren't smart. You offer to help with something, and a woman smiles at you but chooses an alpha instead, and you learn that omegas aren't very useful. You try to form friendships, but there just aren't a lot of omegas out there, and the ones you do find watch you suspiciously, so you learn that omegas are in competition with one another for affection and attention. You hang out with girls instead, and they treat you like a pet, not a person, so you figure out that omegas aren't real people, just caricatures."

When he looked away from the ceiling, Dean was staring at him with quiet horror. 

"What?" he demanded, suddenly self-conscious. 

His brother lay back on his own bed rather than keep the eye contact which made them both uncomfortable. "I...never knew all that."

Sam shrugged. "I'm not saying it's easier growing up alpha. I'm just saying it's simpler. You don't have to watch every subtle movement you make or every word you say. So long as you could beat up any other alpha kid, and the girls liked you, you were good. Only real issues you had were figuring out what Dad wanted from you. And that's less an alpha thing and more of a Winchester thing."

"So..." Dean's voice seemed strange now. "So you feel in front of everybody the way I felt in front of Dad growing up?"

"Difference is Dad loved you. He was a hardass and a moody son of a bitch, and he made you work for every kind word, but in the end, you knew he loved you. I don't get that from the rest of the world."

There was silence then. When Dean spoke at last, it was with an unsteady, uncomfortable voice. "Sammy...it really isn't like that with us. You know that. Right?"

"I know. But you can see why I fight so hard to make sure. And...and the truth is, in anyone else's eyes, I do belong to you. You do make my decisions for me. So I have to remember that all the time too, that everything I do reflects on your judgement and intelligence and strength. It's exhausting."

"You never have to worry about that. I don't care what anybody but you thinks of me."

Sam smiled softly, but his throat was tight around a lump. Dean would never truly understand. "I care," he whispered. "If I ever really embarrassed you...ever did something you couldn't forgive..." 

"That'll never happen. We aren't like other folks, Sam. So long as you're safe and got my back, I'm happy. And you know I'll always have your back. So you tell off every alpha you meet if that's what you want. One day we'll find one that can take us both out, but we'll have fun till then."

He laughed through a blur of tears. "Yeah. Winchester boys come to town..."

"You know nasty shit is going down," Dean cackled. "Haven't thought of that since junior high, dude. How do you remember every stupid thing we ever said or did as kids?"

Sam sighed, and he didn't answer that it was because those were the best things he had, the happiest memories. 

***

Castiel wandered the practice room aimlessly. He corrected the angle of a bow here, snapped his fingers to speed up a painfully slow melody there. But his mind was elsewhere. They didn't even need him here, though the students certainly benefitted from his instruction. And he clearly made the professor nervous. But that was to be expected. Castiel was a daunting figure in any room. In a music practice studio, he was the epitome of intimidation. 

His attention was refocused when he noticed one of the young women in the room swaying out of time with the music around her. He watched her curiously, and was already stepping toward her when she finally collapsed out of her chair. 

Castiel moved to catch her before she hit the ground. She blinked at him in surprise, then screamed at something behind him. Castiel spun on his heel, the woman still braced in his strong arms, and sucked in his breath through his teeth. 

The woman's musical partner, a cellist whose name Castiel had not learned, was convulsing on the floor. Castiel set the woman firmly into the hands of a classmate and dropped to his knees beside the student. He could hear the six other strings musicians crying out in fear, the professor trying to usher them out of the studio. 

"Call for help!" Castiel roared, then watched in helplessness and terror as the student fought frantically, silently, to take a breath. His brown eyes were wide with horror, his skin becoming pale, and his lips tinging with a frightening blue. 

The deaths were not over. The last victim had not been the last, nor had he been the one responsible. Two words slammed into Castiel's heart in rhythm with the pounding. 

Another one. 

***

Castiel stilled the tremor in his hands by force of will. He nodded at the detective and stared at nothing as the man walked away. He wasn't even sure what he had said. Nothing was registering in his mind right now. 

So when a large hand took his arm, he did not even take note of the person it belonged to. He nodded, just as he had been doing, and hoped whoever it was would then go away. 

"Dr. Força? Castiel, you with me?" 

The sound of his first name jarred him into alertness. "What-" He stopped and stumbled back a step. "Sam. Sam Perry."

The young omega nodded. "Yes. Can you answer a few questions?"

He took a breath. "I-I already did, I thought..."

"I know, but we have to conduct our own investigation. You understand."

He didn't. He didn't understand anything that was happening right now. But he was glad to see Sam again. "I'm so sorry for the way...Mr. Perry, you can't possibly believe me, but I'm never so volatile as I was yesterday...You can't possibly forgive threatening behavior like that, but I...Thank you for...You're right to not be afraid. I'm glad you're able to speak to me after..." He heard himself take a shuddered breath. "It was horrible," he hissed. "The child just..."

There was sympathy in those rich, hazel-brown eyes. "I know, Cas. But look. You gave him the best chance. They said...if he'd been alone, like the others, he'd be dead right now. Like the others."

"He may yet be," Castiel whispered hoarsely. It was all he could think. The child could be dead now, and they just hadn't been able to tell him yet. He could have died a moment ago, when this conversation began, and the news wouldn't have gotten to him yet. He could die minutes from now, and Castiel would wonder if he had died while Sam was telling him he had given him his best chance to live. It was making Castiel crazy. 

"Cas, I have to ask you some questions. We can't let this keep happening. Is there something, anything, you can tell me about what all these kids had in common? Anything at all?"

He chewed at his lip. "No, I...I mean, other than what you already...They're all eighteen to twenty-one years old. All our students are. Between high school and an undergraduate program. The victims. They each were here on scholarship. Does that...matter?"

Sam's eyes narrowed. "Maybe. What type of scholarship?"

His mind was pushing through the fog, trying to grasp at anything helpful. "They were all here for music. No. One was a sculpture artist. He was the first. But they were each here on a scholarship enabling..." He met Sam's eyes then. "Sam, they're each omegas," he breathed. "There's a program meant to help young omega artists, to give them a chance against their alpha and female counterparts, to give them an edge before they enter an undergraduate program. I-I introduced the program to the board myself. Oh my god. Sam, these are my students. Mine! They never would have even been here if I hadn't...I didn't know them personally; they were chosen by a panel of professors and local artists in their field, and they were already here when I joined the faculty. But I was the one who..."

Sam's expression was unreadable. "Cas, my partner is questioning the classmates. I would like you to sit with me and explain the program to me. Would you do that? Is there someplace we can go?"

Finally, Castiel's composure returned to him, albeit somewhat shakily. "I'll-I'll permit that. We can...sit in my office. With the door open if you would...feel more comfortable that way."

An eyebrow lifted fractionally. "I can protect myself in a room with a big, bad alpha, Dr. Força," he reminded him. "But do what you like. You're the expert on social and professional protocol."

To his utter shock, a flush of heat crept up his throat, and Castiel turned quickly to lead the bold omega to his office. It bothered him that he had to remind himself to be bothered by this omega's brazen disregard for common manners. 

He gestured to his assistant to acquire coffee for the two of them, then he closed the door behind them. Protocol or not, he didn't want anyone overhearing his conversation. 

"You said you introduced the program to the board. What does that mean?"

Castiel wished Sam would lower his gaze, but he did so himself instead. When he glanced up, he found that Sam was compromising by looking out the window, and he appreciated the obvious indulgence. He smiled wearily. "Years ago, I was a founder of Osphere. It's a-"

Sam was immediately back to staring at him. "It's the most progressive educational lobby for omegas on the planet!"

The alpha cringed. "It is now. I'm no longer affiliated. But I...I helped form the mission with regards to art education. And that included expanding opportunities for omegas to study at prestigious music schools, including preparatory institutions like this, without their alpha's supervision." He scowled. "The current chairman believes omegas should not even need their alpha's consent, and that is where he and I diverge ideologically." 

Those incredible eyes blinked at him. "Cas, I went to a university for two whole years because of Osphere's influence! I couldn't get a real degree, of course, but I was given the chance to study, and audit courses, and use all of the resources that were available to alphas and women! Osphere changed my whole life!"

The alpha frowned. "I don't...I wasn't on the board long. I helped found it...and fund it, much to the horror of most of my family and peers. I set it on its path, with some like-minded friends. But circumstances dictated that I leave it to survive on its own. Today, I merely support it financially via anonymous donations, and encourage schools such as this one to allow the grant program to do its work."

Sam was smiling softly now, and shaking his head a little. Castiel tried not to let his own gaze drop to stare at the gorgeous throat. "So the meanest, most traditional, most conservative alpha in the music world, who believes omegas should be neither seen nor heard, is secretly a progressive of historic proportions."

Castiel's eyes snapped back at Sam's. "I'm neither mean nor progressive," he snarled. "And I don't push these issues anymore. I learned my lesson. Omegas have their place, and so do alphas! Society has rules, and breaking them produces consequences. For example? Something about this place is killing young omegas, who never would have been here if I had not pressed against the natural order!"

"Would it be different if they were young alphas?"

"They aren't young alphas! They're omegas who should never have been here!"

Sam nodded slowly. "Fine. Cas, there's something I don't understand. You said your assistant is an omega, so that rules him out as a suspect, because, as an omega, he wouldn't be capable of that level of malice. But then you said you thought the last boy who died might have been responsible for all the deaths up to that point. If he also was an omega..."

Castiel's stomach was churning. He leaned into his shaking hand, closing his eyes tightly. This was a nightmare. Everything about this was a nightmare. "How could I have blamed a child for this? A young omega, of all creatures..."

"Why did you?" Sam pressed. 

"I don't..." Castiel sighed. "I suppose I just wanted it to be over, so I convinced myself...Ordinarily, the only violence most omegas are capable of is that against themselves. But mental illness can affect anyone, and..."

The knock came at the door then, startling them both. 

Castiel sat up wearily. "Come," he called. 

His assistant entered and placed two coffees in front of Castiel. Then he waited. 

"Speak," Castiel said absently. 

The man took a breath. His eyes were respectfully low. "Everyone has gone except Agent Schon, who is speaking to the students and strings professor. But the question keeps coming up. Will we be closing the school during the investigation?"

Castiel flinched. "What does the board president say?"

"She wants to know what you think."

A low growl rumbled from Castiel's chest, and the omega took a step back. "I'm a violinist, not a school administrator. Tell her I said to make a damn decision, and tell me what it is. What are the other administrators saying?"

"They're mainly addressing concerns with the students and faculty."

"They are actually on staff for a legitimate reason. Forward all of the board's questions to them. Tell them I am off calming donors," he added with disgust. "That's why I'm here, after all."

The omega nodded, and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

Sam watched him go. "He's got the whole etiquette thing down, doesn't he?"

Castiel didn't respond. He lifted one of the coffees to hand to Sam. "This thing, whatever it is...it targets omegas. Some sort of disease? I've never heard of anything like it. But the hospital says they can't find any reason for the deaths."

"Tell me about the young woman who collapsed just before it happened."

A wave of exhaustion flowed through him. "I don't know. It's like she felt something about to happen to the boy. I've since learned they are siblings. Could there be some sort of substance in the school, a toxin that perhaps affects only those genetically predisposed..." His voice faded out. 

Sam was watching him. Those intelligent eyes were merciless. It was as though he could see into Castiel. "You saw something else. Or...or felt something. What was it?"

He let his eyes slip closed now. "No."

"What was it?"

"You impertinent omega," he sighed, but there was no heat in his voice. "It was my imagination. You wouldn't believe me anyway. I don't believe me."

"Try me," Sam said steadily, and something about the way he spoke made Castiel feel as though he already knew what he was going to say. 

He shrugged helplessly. "It felt...it felt as though the boy..."

"Cas?"

"He was afraid, so afraid," he said hoarsely. His heart ached with the words. "But it wasn't because of what was happening to him. Or...or maybe..."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "It felt like he was afraid of you."

Castiel turned to stare down at his desk, emotion crashing over him. He gave a small nod. "I've never been suited to caring for children, Sam. And in spite of my efforts as a younger man, I've never been good with omegas either. But I have always believed in the alpha's duty to protect. I would never harm a child. Nor an omega. Nor a female. I may be stern, Agent Perry, and I may demand that my students learn proper expectations, since I know all too well what happens to those who defy them. But I would never harm...anyone. It was horrible enough not to be able to protect him from what was happening to him." The tremble was beginning again, as he remembered every instinct screaming at him in futility. Nevermind that he didn't know this boy; in that moment, he was Castiel's omega, he was the boy's alpha, and he was failing him in the most basic way possible. The musician wondered if he would ever be able to sleep through the night again.

Sam's eyes were full of sympathy, but he waited. 

Castiel fought against a burning in the back of his eyes. "The child was suffocating in my arms...and he clearly believed I was the one doing it to him."


	7. Six

The school closed at two o'clock, and the detectives' team swept in. By five, they were gone again, and the FBI agents could do their work unhindered. Castiel had sent his assistant home immediately after the talk with Sam when he realized omegas were at risk. The rest of the staff had wandered out to the parking lot in a daze as soon as they were released by the local police to leave. Castiel was exhausted, but he could not make himself go home. Not so long as Sam Perry and Dean Schon thought they could still learn something to help the young omegas. If there were even a remote chance that the agents could find something, Castiel wanted to help. Dean searched the dorms to be sure everyone had left. Sam and Castiel searched through the entire main building, all the practice rooms, the art rooms, the performance halls, supplies closets, the offices and dining hall. 

After a long time in silence, they finally arrived in the gallery at the center of the school. Sam cleared his throat. "How are you doing?"

Castiel turned on him. "Tell me, omega!" he snapped. "How am I doing?"

It was a challenge, but Sam rose to it with a peaked eyebrow. "You've been through a traumatic event, and you're feeling vulnerable, and you resent that an omega is here to view it. And of all omegas, it's one who has no interest in or even much talent for comforting an alpha. So you're snarling to hide your embarrassment that you're afraid, and now you'll posture because you know I'm right, and you can't stand it."

His teeth bared in rage. "Insolent, infuriating, backward omega! That arrogant lack of respect is going to catch up with you one day!"

Sam looked bored with the threats. "And now you're angry that it isn't making me any better behaved, so you're frustrated. You're smart enough and civilized enough to handle this better, but it's been a very long week, and so you're resorting to instinct and conceit, neither of which are getting you anywhere. That's how you're doing."

God, he wanted this exasperating omega. The thought would not stop running through his mind. This exasperating, gorgeous omega. He wanted him. 

"So would you like to continue with the way things are going, or would you care to leash your alpha long enough for me to possibly help you?" Sam looked up finally, and locked eyes with him. "Your choice."

He was breathing out of control. It had been a long time since he had slept. Since the first victims a week ago. Sam was right. He was too tired. His voice quieted somewhat. "I’ve never been in a situation like I was in today.”

Sam nodded, and a bit of sympathy shone in his eyes. “It never gets easier. Not being able to help someone who’s hurt. It eats at you. I know.”

Castiel looked up at the man, then turned away to look out over the gallery blindly. “I...I was afraid. I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid. And I guess...I’m not handling it well.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not supposed to admit that. I’m not supposed to be afraid at all. I’m supposed to be capable of...of protecting any omega in my charge. Any student. But…” His voice was a whisper now. They were alone, but he felt as though every alpha he had ever known were listening, judging. “But the truth is I’m a soloist. A concert violinist. I sell out venues all over the world. I’ve supported art education in every way I can. But I’m not an educator. And I don’t know the first thing about…” He laughed sadly, and looked back at the large omega. “About anything outside of music. I was a prodigy, they said. They call me a genius. But I’m more of a savant. I know nothing outside of the music world.”

Sam stepped toward him and put his hand on his arm. “You’re out of your element here. I get that. And it becomes even more important to seem strong when you’re unsure of your role. Believe me. I get that.”

He watched Sam for a moment, and the warmth of the hand was a comfort he knew he did not deserve. “I'm a musician, Sam," he said finally. "It's all I’ve ever known, and all I ever wanted to be. Not an administrator. Not a teacher. Not an activist or a conservative. I never wanted any of this. I just want to study and play music. All the rest is...It's not what I was made for. I'm not supposed to be working with young people. I'm not supposed to be deciding if a school stays open after a tragedy. I'm not supposed to be the one who tries to keep a child alive until emergency workers can get to him. People keep demanding that I be something I don’t know how to be. I'm a solo violinist, one of the best in the world. If that isn’t enough…” He shrugged with a sad smile. “Then I’m not enough.”

"If you’re not happy here, why are you here?" Sam queried. 

"It wasn't supposed to be me! My brother, Luke. He...he commits to these things, then he doesn't pull through. The school contacted me to say that Luke had committed to being the musician in residence, and that they were in a bind because he’s..."

"Unreliable?"

"Incarcerated."

Sam's mouth opened, then snapped closed. 

Castiel sighed. "Luke has made some...unfortunate, selfish choices. And he doesn't have the same level of musical credibility I have anyway. Michael said he thinks they wanted me originally, but knew I wouldn’t do it, except that I was embarrassed Luke had left them the way he did." He noticed the way Sam was frowning at him. "What is it?"

"Cas, your brother Luke. Was he meant to be here at the school? I mean, was there a time when he thought he would be?"

"Yes. He planned it for months. Then he was arrested for..." He sighed through the embarrassment. "He was arrested for fraud. He was attempting to pass himself off as Michael at an auction house. They're nearly identical. We call Luke the middle child, but that’s just because Michael was born first. Luke was trying to sell an antique he had stolen from Michael. The twins are hardly the epitome of familial love."

"They're alphas too."

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Yes. Why?"

Sam was nodding. "Cas, your brother expected to be here. And then he was...deterred. And he's an alpha...Does Luke have an omega?"

Castiel's head was spinning. "Sam, I don't understand-"

"Does he have an omega?"

"No. Not that I'm aware of."

The intelligence in the omega's eyes was stunning. He could see the man deducing something, and it only made him more attractive. Castiel had known a few smart omegas in his past. But this one was something truly special. "No," Sam agreed. "No, that's why he needed them. If it was going to work, he needed-"

"Six omegas," a voice behind them spat out. 

They turned to find Dean walking toward them. He did not bother looking at Castiel. "He's already got five, Sam. Think. How do we stop it?"

Castiel looked from one to another. "Are we...talking about my older brother?"

Sam did not respond. He met Dean's eyes. "He's got five sacrifices. He’ll need a sixth. He wouldn't even need to activate it if he set it up properly ahead of time. The death of a sixth omega, at the right time and place, would do it."

The musician swallowed hard. "Sam, I don't know what you're talking about. But unless you've received word that I haven't, there have only been four deaths. The fifth-"

Dean swore. "The fifth kid!"

"You got to get there, Dean. If he dies, if anybody else dies..."

"Yeah. I'm on it." He growled at Castiel now. "Keep an eye on this one. I'm not convinced he ain't in on the whole thing."

"Why wouldn't he have let the kid die?" Sam pointed out. 

Dean glared. "Just watch him. Don't let him out of your sight. You need me, you call me."

"Protect the kid. I'll be fine."

 

Sam then muttered something to Dean, which made his eyes go wide, and then their gazes had locked. Castiel found it interesting how in tune these men were, family or not. It was as though they barely needed to speak at all. Dean had nodded slowly, flicked his eyes in the direction of Castiel, and slipped out of the room, more like a cat burglar than law enforcement. 

Castiel was tired and angry and confused, and he didn't like any of the three. "Sam, what the hell-"

Hazel-green eyes looked down at him with worry. "Cas, they aren't just victims. They're spell components. We’re dealing with dark magic."

***

This was ridiculous. This whole thing was just ridiculous. It was also impossible, but that didn't seem to bother this brilliant omega, whose name was apparently not Perry at all, but Winchester. So he focused on his immediate discomfort. “I don’t understand why I have to be watched." Especially in his own home. Especially in his own home, which just last night, he had paced for hours while idly playing at his German violin, and pining for a beautiful omega. 

Sam smiled at him grimly. "I know this all sounds crazy. But me and my brother...It's what we do. If it helps, we ruled out your antique violin as having a poltergeist or vengeful spirit attached to it, so it doesn't need to be thrown in a fire."

He was silent, and he could feel the color draining from his face. 

"Cas? You okay?"

"I may have to be sick."

Sam cringed. "Dude, that was the good news. If it were a problem...my brother would have burned it already."

"Not helping."

"Okay. Um, let's focus on what we're doing here."

Castiel tried to banish the image of his family's violin turning to ash. "Sam, what are we doing here?"

The hunter, as he had explained he was called, took a deep breath. "Cas, the spell is rigged to go off the minute a sixth omega dies. And we’re doing our best to make sure that doesn’t happen. But I think...If I’m adding up all the evidence right, we need you to be away from the school, and I gotta keep an eye on you."

"But why? I don’t understand."

"Honestly?" He sighed. "My brother thinks you set up the spell yourself, but I don’t believe that. On the other hand...I do think the spell has transferred to you since the alpha it was intended for isn’t nearby. You said you thought that omega was afraid of you. I think he could sense that the spell’s energy was coming from you."

"I don't understand. If Luke set this up, or someone else did, what was he meaning to gain?"

Sam nodded and sat down on a couch. He stared at the violin sitting on a stand across the room. "It's an old story. You've probably heard some version of it."

Castiel sat next to him, and immediately wished he hadn't. He could feel the omega's warmth, smell his sweet scent. It pushed his already taxed mind and heart out of balance entirely. 

"An alpha takes an omega, and the omega adores him. They are together and happy for so many years, and the omega loves him so dearly, that the life blood of the omega sustains the alpha through sickness and injury, and eventually into old age. The intensity of the omega's love is such that, at the time his alpha is finally to die, the omega pours the last of his love and life into him with a kiss, and the alpha lives another thousand years, though the omega dies in that moment."

Castiel was frowning in horror when Sam looked up again.

"What, you never heard that story?" Sam smirked bitterly. "That's the story they tell little omega kids in kindergarten, to let us know what our ultimate purpose is. To sacrifice ourselves, heart and blood, for our alphas. Must have had to read it a dozen times or more growing up. Other kids are assigned stories of heroism and adventure. Not omegas. Teachers give us The Sacrifice. I once had to write an essay explaining why this was the perfect ending for all omegas. I don't think the teacher appreciated my sarcasm."

Castiel tried to choose his words carefully, even as anger lit inside him. "That is the most..." He took a breath and slowed down. "That's the most backward story I've ever heard in my life. Are you certain it wasn't the other way around?"

Sam's eyebrow peaked. 

The musician felt his throat warm. "Yes, of course you're certain. But, Sam, how could they teach omegas that their role is to give their lives for their alpha? That omega may have loved him, but that alpha should never have allowed himself to be sustained at the expense of...It's the alpha's right and duty to live and die for his omega! He should never have accepted such a sacrifice..." The frown turned to wide eyes. "Sam? Why are we talking about this story? What does this have to do..."

Sam's eyes had softened, and he was staring at Castiel, but now he lowered his gaze and seemed to shake himself. "Because, Cas, if this is the spell I think it is? Some alpha is trying to force those omegas to do for him what that omega did for his alpha. It's not just a story. It's witchcraft. And if you can't find an omega willing to give his life for you..."

"Six unwilling ones will do."

He nodded. "The Sacrifice spell is specific. The original omega, the one from the story? He was said to have loved his alpha with the strength of six omegas." He shrugged. "Since we make up only ten percent of the overall population, it’s pretty hard to find a bunch of omegas all in one place. An alpha would need access to a place like a school that takes omegas, if each of us are only one-sixth as valuable as the one from the original spell.”

Something in Castiel snapped at the casual way Sam had included himself in that equation. He snarled in anger. "The very idea that any omega would not be the most precious part of his alpha's life is disgusting. Especially one like you! How could any alpha think to value his own life-to extend his own life!-if it meant destroying that which he has been charged to protect? I refuse to believe any such alpha could ever have earned the heart of any omega. If I had the privilege of being your alpha, I would never put any desire of my own over your safety and comfort! The very idea..." Castiel allowed his voice to fade off as he realized what he was saying. He quickly cleared his throat and spoke again. "Your...your alpha, I mean to say, in a general sort of...Were I any omega's alpha, of course. Not yours specifically."

Sam was smiling, but he kept his gaze low. "Sure. Right. Obviously not mine. I'm a defective omega anyway."

He could not help responding. "Defective! Because you refuse to follow social etiquette? That's not a defect! You are the strongest, smartest, best educated, most fascinating omega I have ever met! The fact that you're also the most insolent is beside the point!" 

Sam shrugged, but he was grinning, and for the first time, Castiel could swear he could smell something other than defensiveness and pride on the omega, something that was almost...shy pleasure. "Right. And you're the most honorable, intelligent, most complicated and talented alpha I've ever met. The fact that you're conceited and out of touch with modern progressive views is just part of that old-fashioned charm," he finished with a wink. 

Castiel set his jaw in frustration. "You are infuriating."

"I am," Sam agreed. "Nearly as infuriating as you are hypocritical."

Blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "You are very lucky we are not back at the school, omega. I cannot have such disrespectful talk witnessed by students. I won't allow it."

"Really?" Sam challenged. He stood above the alpha and let his teeth show. "And since we're alone?"

Castiel rose to his feet, and glowered evenly into Sam's eyes. His alpha stare had never failed to establish his dominance before. It brought a rush of pleasure through him to sense the difficulty even mighty Sam Winchester had in keeping his gaze locked with his. It took only a moment, but it was longer than any omega-as well as most alphas-had withstood him before, and it was an eternity to his heart. 

Sam's eyes lowered with a short exhale, and his hand reached up to brush fingertips over his own throat, and behind his neck. 

There was no mistaking that gesture. 

Castiel stepped slowly toward him. "Since we're alone," he whispered, "perhaps I'll forgive your tone if you'll forgive mine." He leaned in, and to his delight, the man stood firm instead of backing away. This time, when he spoke, it was close enough that his breath warmed Sam's long, gorgeous throat. "You don't need an alpha, Sam. Maybe you want one. Maybe you think wanting someone strong makes you weak."

Sam's eyes closed. 

He could feel the desire trembling from the man, and it was intoxicating, like nothing Castiel had ever known. "It doesn't work like that, Sam," he murmured. "A good alpha doesn't take your strength from you. A good alpha gives of himself. Let me touch that beautiful neck of yours, I'll show you how an alpha is meant to behave."

"And all the posturing?" he demanded in a stubborn voice. 

"Alphas posture because we have to prove to omegas that you need us. Because we need you. It terrifies us when you don't need us."

"It terrifies me that I want you," he whispered. 

The words slammed into Castiel, sending sparks of arousal through his whole body. "Please, Sam. Don't be afraid. I could never hurt you."

Sam's eyes opened, and he frowned defiantly. "I will never kneel for an alpha. For anyone."

Castiel's fingers gently ran along the omega's smooth, proud throat, thrilling with the tremor beneath his hand. "I would never ask for that. Not from you. I know you don't need me. It's boiling in my veins knowing you don't need me. But give me the chance to be what you want."

There was a moment when the fear was stronger than the desire, and Castiel thought Sam might flee. Or considering his confidence, perhaps he would fight. But then he sighed shakily and leaned into Castiel's touch. “You are what I want, alpha. I can't help it. I can do without it. But...God, Cas, I don't want to anymore. Can I trust you not to mark me?”

His nostrils flared. He stared hard at the throat, imagining his bite sinking into it. But with great force of will, he nodded. “I said I wouldn't take from you, Sam. You have my word. I'll want to. I already want to. But I won't mark you.”

Sam's eyes rolled closed then, and he let Castiel take him into his arms. “Then, just for one night, be my alpha, and let me be your omega.”

Castiel intended to waste none of this night.


	8. Cloud

The words were ripped out of Sam from someplace deep and hated. It wasn't often Sam Winchester was afraid. Not like this. Never like this. So rather than make a mistake now, he heard his own voiceless breath say, "You'll have to teach me."

He had thought Castiel's eyes were dark before. He had thought the alpha looked terrifyingly hungry before. Now, as his pink lips parted in a way that made Sam stare at them, Castiel's expression was that of pure lust.

Sam felt his throat flushing. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind, where his psychology and behavior courses lived, that the blush must be making the alpha even crazier, the ache to bite his warming flesh even stronger. But Castiel refrained from baring his teeth.

Instead, he drew his fingers across Sam's throat and gripped him on either side of his jaw gently. He turned Sam's face to the side.

Sam could hear his heart pounding, and he knew the alpha could hear it too. Being exposed like this, with his throat bared to an alpha's bite...It was maddening. Fear rushed through him, making him shake so hard he was off-balance. He fought inside himself just to stand his ground instead of run or lash out. He was certain suddenly that it was true. He was defective somehow. He should want this! He should want to take a mark from such a powerful alpha! Instead, it horrified him. His eyes closed, and he waited.

The pain of teeth did not come. Instead, a brush of skin startled him into a whimper.

Castiel was nuzzling his neck. His long musician's fingers of one hand were tangled in his hair, and the other hand gently held Sam's head positioned the way he wanted it. And his lips, not his teeth, were against the soft flesh of his throat.

The contact pulled another cry from the younger man. A heaviness came over him gradually, as though he were being blanketed by something too soft to touch. When he focused on the feel of the alpha's confident touch on his neck, he lost all perception of location. Every sense was overwhelmed by the feel and scent of his alpha. He was dizzy and shaking, but he was warm and safe.

He was only vaguely aware that they were moving, and that Castiel was whispering to him. The euphoric feeling chased away the fear, but left the trembling. He tried half-heartedly to make his eyes and ears focus, but they refused, and he gave up. His alpha would take care of him.

Then he was falling, and it was jarring enough to stir his senses into alertness for an instant. But it was not the free fall he had feared. It was Castiel tenderly laying him out over a bed. So he smiled and let himself fall back into the dizzy fog. He knew Castiel was talking, and he liked his voice, but he didn't bother understanding the content.

"Sam, if you've never been with an alpha," the nice rumbling was lilting, "I'm not going to push anything tonight. If that means I've missed my chance, I'll have to live with knowing I did the right thing. I can't press my advantage, not if you don't know what to expect. What you're feeling now...It wouldn't be fair."

Sam hummed at him happily. He wondered what his alpha was saying, or if it was important. He didn't wonder much. But it crossed his mind lazily.

"God, you're so beautiful like this. And no one has ever seen you this way before. Are you even hearing me, Sam?"

He chuckled, a bit shyly, and stretched his long limbs out. He knew his alpha was there, watching over him. He was safe. He was loved. Basking in this warm fog was delicious.

There was an answering laugh, and the hands were stroking his hair again, lips and face snuggling his neck, then down his chest, where his shirt was open.

He gave a bit of a whine, and tried to push Castiel further down, but he was denied.

"No, sweet omega. Just let me touch you, keep you in the cloud a little while. God, Sam, I can't express how gorgeous you are. For the first time in my life, I wish I were a poet or a painter instead."

His arms were placed securely behind his own head for safekeeping, and he felt too lazy to move them.

"I'm not getting through anyway. You're listening, but not hearing." More kisses all over his breast up to his throat. "Sam, you are everything I've ever wanted. I didn't know it. But it's true. You are the most beautiful omega...And so much of that is your strength and your strange stubborn confidence. I just want to keep you forever. I want so badly to mark you, omega."

Something sliced through the euphoria, and Sam shuddered. He wasn't sure what made him suddenly feel cold, but he looked up at his alpha with pleading in his eyes.

Castiel cringed. "Oh, poor omega! I'm sorry, baby. No, it's okay. I promised I wouldn't mark you, and I won't. No teeth, okay, baby? Shh." He shook his head. "You're such an amazing creature, Sam Winchester. You're so afraid of losing your independence that you can't completely relax in a cloud. You've always got your defenses up, don't you? I think you'd fight fiercely as any alpha if anyone tried to mark you and tie you to him. I want to, sweet omega. But I won't."

Whatever the words were, they helped Sam settle back into bliss. His alpha's fingers and lips were at work, soothing his trembling and fears.

"I hate that you have to be so afraid of that. Of being tied to an alpha. To me. But that's our fault, isn't it? You poor, sweet thing, you fight so hard just to be allowed to be yourself. You would rather be lonely and free than loved but tied to an alpha. We've done that to you, all of us, made you feel as if being tied to an alpha, being paired, means giving up any sense of self."

Sam sighed. His skin was beginning to crawl with want, but he sensed that his alpha wasn't happy. So he reached for him, tried to find his way to Castiel's skin through clothing that shouldn't be there. Castiel relented indulgently, and lost his shoes, socks, tie and shirt. The belt came off, and even the undershirt and pants, but he stopped Sam there. Sam frowned at the sudden obstacle to getting his way, and growled a bit in his throat.

This was met with a soft, delighted laugh, which thrilled through him. "Shh, Sam. We aren't going to go there. Believe me, baby, I want to. So, so much. But I can't be sure you knew what it was like to be in a pheromone cloud, so I can't assume you really-"

Sam sighed in frustration. "You're unhappy with me," he cried suddenly.

It struck Castiel's heart. He grabbed Sam's face and kissed his lips again and again. "No," he promised frantically. "No, you perfect, gorgeous thing! That's not why! I just can't be sure you-"

Sam frowned defiantly. He fought through the heaviness to clear his mind. "What? You can't be sure I know what I'm consenting to? That I won't break? That I will still respect myself in the morning? What the hell can't you be sure of?"

Castiel was smiling fondly, but he cleared his throat. "Be still, omega!" he ordered in a quiet, firm voice. "I've said we won't be going there. Defy or question my decisions, and we won't be going anywhere at all."

Sam was trying to glare at him, but it faded quickly into a scowl. He was silent.

Castiel shook his head at him. "Insolent beast," he scolded with a laugh. Then he returned his face to Sam's neck. "Let's just get some of these layers off you too, and then I'm going to hold you, keep you safe and warm in your cloud as long as we can. Don't worry about anything else, Sam. I'm very, very happy with you, omega mine. And if you disappear tomorrow, I'll always be proud to have been the first alpha to give this to you. That's why it has to be done right. In a way you won't resent later. So be still, omega, and let me take care of you without taking from you."

Clothing stripped away, and anxiety went with it. Sam fought the fog for only moments before closing his eyes and surrendering to it. He could feel his alpha sliding their bodies into place, and then he was lying on Castiel's strong arm, with a hard chest warming his back all the way through to his heart. He moved himself back into the man, and got some smirking satisfaction from the sound of Castiel's breath gasping through his teeth, and the feel of him allowing himself one generous rut before growling out, "I said be still, omega." He obliged, and snuggled deeper into Castiel's arms, and rode the euphoric high brought on by their skin on skin contact, until he fell into a content, peaceful slumber.

It crossed his hormone-addled mind, just before losing consciousness inside a strong, cozy cocoon, that what the man had called a pheromone cloud was a phenomenon which only occurred when an omega truly trusted his alpha. It meant that something in Sam's brain and heart truly wanted to be paired with Castiel.

But he would deal with that horrible thought later.


	9. Promise

When he awoke, Sam didn't move. He did not even dare open his eyes. He could feel an immense change, could smell it too. Castiel was there, with his arms around the omega protectively. It was comfort and security of a sort Sam had never known.

Castiel had not marked him.

The realization flooded through him all at once, and he sighed with the heaviness of the conflicting emotions inside him. The dominant among them was relief, certainly. He was relieved and grateful to the point of tears that he had been right to trust this alpha. The last of the fear made him gasp in a sob. Castiel simply held him tighter.

"My father had an omega, Joshua." Castiel spoke without preface, as if he had been waiting all night for Sam to awaken, and had spent that time deciding on his words. "We called him Uncle. I don't remember ever seeing them touch; nor did they speak almost at all so that anyone else could hear. But anything Joshua wanted, my father provided. My mother had passed years before, and Joshua seemed to bring my father great comfort just by being near. I always admired that as a child."

Sam listened in silence. He could feel Castiel's own need for comfort, for contact, and the stubborn alpha would never ask for it. But Sam knew. He began his hands running up and down Castiel's arms gently, and waited.

Castiel smiled at Sam in gratitude. "Joshua was a gardener. He spent most of his days tending to the gardens of my father's estate. My father used to glance out the window and mutter to himself about why he bothered to pay a groundskeeper. But he said it with the same doting tone that he might talk about the work of maintaining his antiques. It brought him so much comfort just having Joshua there. He constantly had things delivered to the house for him, to feed his talents and soul. I don't know if my father was in love with Joshua. But he was entirely grateful for him, and he wanted to make him as happy as he could be. It was important to him."

"Companions," Sam murmured.

He nodded. "I had a little sister, Anna. She never really knew our mother, and I think Father always intimidated her a bit. But Joshua. Joshua adored her. She would sit in his gardens while he worked, and talk to him for hours. When she was too shy to practice her violin for Father or me, and Michael and Luke were brutal in their criticism, she could always play for Joshua. She didn't have the raw talent Michael and I had, but she was determined to be a part of the family tradition, so she practiced for Joshua nearly every day. As she got older, she met a friend. An omega."

Sam looked up to see the distress in Castiel's eyes. It made his heart ache.

"Anna and Abner. They were inseparable. And I didn't know it then, too busy with my own career, but she was teaching him to play. That was fine by itself. But Abner had an alpha. And when he started to show some real talent for music, he let my sister in on a secret. His alpha, Angel Gadreel, was normally even-tempered and kind, but he was extremely possessive, and when Abner stepped out of line, Angel beat him mercilessly. And Abner wanted to leave him and go with Anna to school for music."

A sick feeling rose up in Sam's throat. He knew where this was going.

"She went to Joshua, begged him to help. He had never been good at saying no to Anna. So that week, the two of them went to collect Abner and get him safe and free. Except that Angel had already figured out the plan, and was waiting for them."

"Oh god," Sam breathed. He could feel Castiel's heartbeat pounding out his grief.

"He killed them. All three of them."

Sam's eyes closed.

"My father and Michael went in like a storm, and tore Angel Gadreel to pieces. The police saw it as a private matter between two alphas who couldn't control their omegas. And in a day, it was all over, and two holes were punched in our family portrait. And my father...He never said my Uncle's name again. When he heard it, he stared coldly, and we learned never to say it. He asked for him as he lay dying. He was confused. I just told him Joshua would be there soon, and it brought him comfort. But until the moment of his own end, he refused to think of the omega he had adored so much."

"He blamed him for Anna's death."

Castiel sighed from deep in his broken heart. "Anna was a child. But Joshua knew better. Joshua was old enough to know how the world worked, but he pushed against it anyway. I had already become involved with Osphere, but my father told me, in no uncertain terms, that if I didn't want him to destroy my career and everything I loved, I would stop all activities related to omega empowerment. He was grieving, and angry, and I didn't dare defy him. In addition to my career, I would have lost my relationship with my father, who meant everything to me. I don't think he even truly disagreed with what I was doing. I think it was his way of punishing Joshua after the fact. Carver Força wasn't the musician I am today. But he was a force in the music world like no other. If he had chosen to end my career as it was beginning, he could have done so in a snap. No venue would dare hire me, no conductor or composer would dare work with me. Not against his will. And as I was too well-aware, I had nothing else. I would have been Luke, trying to live on my family name and money. Or Michael, who pretends he is too good to play even the best venues in the world, because they don't ask him to, if they can book me. I would have been done. Entirely done." He looked down at the omega in his arms and sighed. "So now you know. I'm a selfish coward. There was a time when I pushed back against what we're told is the natural order. But I learned my lesson."

Sam nodded sadly. "You...you didn't bite," he whispered.

"No. I didn't."

"I might have let you."

There was a small smile now. "Maybe. But it wasn't right. It wasn't what you wanted. I hope it isn't me that frightens you, Sam."

"I'm terrified of being Abner," he whispered.

"I know. But, Sam, that would never be you. You wouldn't be trapped, waiting for someone else to save you. In any case, you know now what it is to be under an alpha's cloud, so you won't ever be caught unaware. You can protect yourself."

Sam's eyes slid closed, and he pressed his temple to Castiel's strong chest. "It isn't an alpha's cloud."

He could hear the frown. "What?"

He sighed contentedly. "That's fallacious, Cas. Old, dismissed science. It isn't an alpha's cloud. The cloud originates from the omega."

Castiel shifted to look down at him. "I don't understand."

There was a tiny laugh, and Sam shoved him back into the position which was most comfortable. "The cloud is a combination of hormones triggered by an alpha's pheromones."

"Yes, so-"

"But," Sam continued, "it can't be triggered if it isn't the right alpha."

Castiel was quiet for a moment. Then he murmured, "I'm confused."

"Cas, I won't have to worry about a cloud with an alpha that I don't trust. My brain won't react that way to just anyone." He paused. "Well, I suppose it would if I trusted everyone."

"Clearly that's not the case."

Sam snorted. "Clearly."

"What does...what does that mean?"

Sam took a deep breath in through his nose, filled his lungs with the scent of his alpha. "I think it means if I were ever going to pair with anyone...it would be you."

Castiel seemed stunned. "But you don't even like me, Sam!" he cried out in exasperation. "Last night, that was...that was..."

He smiled, and sat up finally "That was the most respect any alpha other than my brother has ever shown me. You weren't just protecting me. You were respecting my wishes. Not dismissing my fears. You were...keeping your promise. I don't think I really expected any alpha could do that. You didn't lie to me. And you didn't break your promise. You never tried to make me kneel. And you could have...We could have had sex. I was ready for that."

"No you weren't," Castiel corrected gently.

Sam gave a rueful smile, and put his hand on Castiel's cheek. "No. I wasn't," he admitted.

For perhaps the first time, Sam saw the complete adoration in Castiel's worried blue gaze. It warmed him through to his core. "It's...I'm sorry if you think...It wasn't about me making your decisions for you. It wasn't...I just didn't think it was right. For either of us. Because you were afraid. It's the responsibility of an alpha to gauge his omega's state of mind, and provide what he needs. Even if..."

"Even if that's not what he said he wanted?"

Castiel took a breath. "I know what that sounds like to you, Sam. Another power inequality between alphas and omegas. Another example of an alpha exerting his will over a vulnerable omega, but-"

"No."

The man's mouth was still open, and a few more words of argument tumbled out before he realized what Sam had said. "-it's a matter of doing right by your omega, and I can't just turn that off...What do you mean, no?"

Sam was grinning at him crookedly. "I mean, I don't see it that way. You did the right thing. I don't like you making decisions for me, and I won't allow you to. But I don't think I mind you making decisions for us. You respect my wishes and acknowledge my fears, and you make those things a priority over every other factor. You proved that last night. And I proved last night that I trust you not to hurt me."

"I could never hurt you, Sam," the alpha breathed, with something akin to awe in his voice.

"No," he agreed with a smile but a look in his eyes that made it clear he meant what he said. "You couldn't. You're right. I'm no Abner. But you're clearly no Angel either. So maybe we could make this work somehow." The words were out of his mouth before he had even thought them through.

"This? Us?"

Some of his natural self-doubt crept into his heart now. "I mean, unless...unless you don't want-"

Castiel sat straight up and stared at Sam with near panic on his face. "Yes! Yes, Sam, I want!"

Sam gave a small laugh of relief, and ducked his head to let his hair hide his eyes.

"But you don't even like me!"

"You keep saying that! Of course I like you, Cas!" he chuckled. "There are some parts of your public persona I don't like, but I'm beginning to understand them, and we can talk about that. Maybe we can reach a compromise between your need to show other alphas that you're an unyielding bastard, and my need to show every alpha I meet that I can kick his ass."

Castiel smirked at him, but then it faded into a thoughtful, pleased smile. After a few moments, during which Sam waited in patience, he spoke again. "Sam? Do you like music?"

He huffed, and could feel his face and throat heating. "Uh...well, I'm entirely tone deaf. But I love music. I'm inclined toward, you know, classic rock more than classical violin, but..."

Castiel stood from the bed and wandered from the room. A moment later, he returned with an instrument, and Sam could tell at a glance, by the look on the man's face and the way he held it in his hands, that this was Castiel's first love. It was strange the way Sam's mind stored that information, as if he were making notes for the future to show the object its due reverence, as perhaps Joshua may have for Carver's lost wife.

Without a word, Castiel began to play his violin. Sam watched in fascination that soon became complete wonder and delight, as Castiel performed Stairway to Heaven as Sam had never experienced it before.

It may have been the emotional exhaustion, or the lingering effects from the cloud. Perhaps it was the bittersweet association Sam felt between this song and his childhood spent in the car with his father and brother. For whatever the reason, Sam was shocked to find tears streaming down his face before the last lines were played, and he was entirely unable to speak in the silence which followed.

Castiel licked his lips anxiously, and met Sam's eyes. "Compromise?" he murmured.

Sam laughed through his tears, and nodded.


	10. Acabado

Dean checked his phone again. Nothing. Still dark. He scowled at it, but that didn't change the fact that Sam hadn't contacted him. And it wouldn't matter much if he called now, since he wouldn't be able to answer it anyway. Not with the witch staring at him.

He just wished the crazy bitch would stop talking.

"It was supposed to be Castiel Força."

The omega in the corner rolled his eyes. "Oh, seriously, you have got to shut up. Donny, it's Luke Força! Castiel Força's brother! Oh, look, Donny! It's not Luke anymore, it's Castiel Força himself! Donny, it's not a Força at all, just some random alpha-Who the hell cares? It's a damn spell! Just freaking cast it!"

At this point, Dean agreed. At least then, he'd be too dead to listen to these demented siblings argue anymore.

The young woman shook her head. "I don't expect you to understand anything about poetry."

"What the hell is poetic about using The Sacrifice spell to make some random alpha immortal, then stealing it for yourself?"

"Exactly!" she snapped. "Nothing! But making Castiel Força immortal and then stealing it from him? That's beyond beautiful!"

Dean licked at his teeth with disgust. "Look, Hermione. I'm sorry I'm not as prestigious a victim as your music teacher. But could-"

"Music teacher! Do you even understand who Castiel Força is? He's the greatest violinist in a hundred years! Maybe the greatest of all time!"

"Doesn't hurt the eyes either," her brother accused.

Her eyes flashed at him in fury. "Castiel Força's beauty has nothing to do with it. It's his genius that makes him the perfect alpha for this transfer. If I'm going to live forever, I want him to be the one who gave it to me."

Donny's hands flew up. "Him? Tracy, I'm the one-"

"You're a sacrifice, Donny, not the target of this whole design. It isn't the same."

Dean stared at them. "Donny, why the hell would you agree to be a sacrifice so this bitch could live forever?"

He glanced at him and sighed. "Because you think I've got a choice in all this? She's my sister. She's a witch. And I'm just an omega." He turned back to Tracy. "But you know, it isn't my fault you didn't finish the spell in the practice studio. He was literally in your arms. All you had to do was take one more omega. Me and that other guy. So don't curse at me because you screwed up the incantation."

"I didn't screw it up!" she snapped shrilly. "It wasn't the right moment!"

"It was the perfect moment!"

"You try casting a spell as complex as The Sacrifice while Castiel Força is holding you!"

Dean wondered what it would take to finish this spell and put himself out of his misery.

Donny glanced at him. "Don't worry. We'll both be dead in twenty minutes, and we won't ever have to listen to her voice again. And I just hope nobody in Hell has ever heard of Castiel Força, so I can burn in peace."

"If you can get my hands free, I'll put her down, you won't have to ever hear her voice again, and you get the extra added benefit of not dying."

"Little late for that."

Tracy glared at him. "Shut up." She heaved a dramatic sigh. "Fine. If I have to use this guy, I have to use this guy. At least he's strong. I'd prefer a musical genius, but I'll take what I've got."

Dean gave her a sneering smirk.

The young woman moved to her dagger, and played with it a moment. Then she looked up. "Fine," she said again. "I'm going to take that omega in the next room. Then it'll be you, Donny. I can't afford to risk trying to do it all at once like before. It's too much to keep straight in my head."

Dean wondered if Sam would know he had been killed by an idiot. He hoped not. Coming into the hospital room to guard the injured omega kid had been his idea. Not realizing his sister was the witch who started this mess was Sam's fault. Somehow. Had to be Sam's fault. He would think of a reason why later. Or he wouldn't, because he would be dead. Stupid or not, this witch was potent. She had caught him completely unaware, and she had bound him to the chair with little more than a whisper. The omega had simply sighed.

It made him cringe that this omega was going along with the whole program.

"Here's what I don't get," he said suddenly, just as Tracy began to take out her incantation cheat sheet. "The Sacrifice spell-It's supposed to be a single omega."

She lifted a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him. "Or six."

"Okay. But you only need one if he's willing. Donny here is willing, which I still don't get. So what did you need the other four for? And the poor guy next door?"

Donny closed his eyes.

Tracy took a breath. "It only works if the willing omega loves the alpha. And I had to promise not to hurt his alpha for him to help me. I've got his alpha under a spell. As soon as Don serves his purpose, I'll set his alpha's mind free. Poor guy won't even know he was ever under my power in the first place."

"You promised." It was a weak little voice, but Donny tried to hold it steady.

Dean stared at her. "Wow. You are twelve kinds of nasty."

She shrugged. "Small price for immortality. Now I take these last two omegas, pass the spell's reward on to you, and then leech it from you, leaving you broken in a puddle of your own skin and blood for the nurses to find. Shall we?"

Dean smiled suddenly. "I don't think so," he laughed.

She glared at him. "Excuse me? What are you laughing at?"

"The most badass of all omegas is standing behind you," Dean sighed with satisfaction.

Her eyes grew wide, but there was no time to turn before the hunter had shoved a blade into her heart through her back. Instead of a scream, a soft whimper emitted from her throat, and she looked at Donny in shock before slumping to the ground.

Castiel Força looked down at the woman, then up at Sam in awe. "You killed her!" he cried.

Sam moved to help Dean up now that he was not being held by magic. "Of course I killed her. See if he's all right," he ordered with a gesture toward Donny.

The musician hesitated only a moment, then approached to offer him help, just as the young man collapsed into sobs.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Took you long enough. What the hell were you..." His voice faded away, and he sniffed at the air.

Sam gave him a warning glower, but Dean ignored it.

"Wait!" he shouted. "Who-Him? Seriously? You slept with the music teacher? What the hell, Sam! When I said he put the ass in Cas, you called him a Cashole!"

Dark eyebrows shot up, and Castiel stared at Sam. "You know, I can hear you both. I'm right here."

His brother's face was redder than he had ever seen it. "Dean-"

"What the actual hell! We're on a job!"

Donny moaned in distress, bringing them all back to the situation at hand.

Dean rolled his eyes and shoved Sam out of his way. "You," he said, jabbing his finger at the young omega. "Think you're done screwing with witchcraft?"

Tears were pouring down his cheeks. "I never wanted any of this. I just didn't want her to hurt my alpha. I'm so sorry!"

The hunter sighed. He had never been good around weeping omegas or women, and if an alpha was crying near him, he had probably meant for that to happen. He handed him a tissue from a nearby box dispassionately. "Okay. Let's clean up this mess. Then you and me are gonna have a talk."

It was unclear who he meant, since he had not turned to face either his brother or the other alpha in the room. But no one dared ask while those green eyes were flashing in ferocity.

***

The scene was cleaned with expert care, and at last Dean felt they could consider the job wrapped. Donny had showed them where all of Tracy's things were, and they had burned it all. Sam had explained that he and Castiel had come to check on Dean and the hurt omega, and had heard the witch giving all the details they needed.

Finally, the three of them were standing in an empty school, beside a very old violin, and Dean whirled on Castiel in anger. The older alpha locked eyes with him and let his nostrils flare, his teeth showing between his parted lips. They had worked together in the past two hours to cover the remains of a crime scene, but now they literally circled one another in fury.

Sam sighed helplessly beside them. "Dean, please. Cas, don't!"

But neither alpha could look away from the other. Dean snarled, "Sammy, you back away from this."

"Sam," Castiel snapped, "step back."

Dean's eyes flared with dark green fire. "You think you're going to tell my brother what to do?"

"I think he's made his choice."

The rage nearly made him blind for an instant, but he forced himself to take a breath, and his blood pressure eased. "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you where you stand."

"Dean!" Sam shouted.

The shock in his brother's voice echoed through the gallery hall. "Well?" Dean demanded.

"If you were half the alpha you pretend to be, you would have done it already!" Castiel challenged.

"Dean, he didn't mark me!" Sam screamed in desperation.

Dean stopped. For the first time, he was uncertain. "What?" he barked.

Sam hurried to put himself between the two men. "Dean, he didn't mark me. Okay? He didn't do anything. I mean, yeah, I slept with him-"

The green fire sparked again.

"But!" Sam hurried on. "But, Dean, he didn't do anything! He didn't. Look. See?"

The revealed bare throat before him sent confusion to drown out the anger. "He didn't mark you?"

Sam sighed in frustration, then turned to Castiel. "And if you start anything with my brother, I'll kick your ass myself. Don't think I can't."

Castiel took a step back, and his coiled muscles relaxed fractionally. "It wouldn't occur to me that you couldn't," he said quietly.

Dean stared at him. Then he backed up too. "Sam-"

"And you!" The omega turned again to glare at him. "For all you act like it's different between you and me, for as many times as you've said it ain't like that between us, here you are countering a decision I made as an adult, and you're making me out to be a victim! I made my decision, and I don't have to explain it to you, and you sure as hell don't get to protect me from it! Cas didn't do anything to me, and he didn't do anything to you, because I'm not yours!"

"Sam-" Castiel began.

"Shut the hell up, Cas!" Sam snapped. "I'm so sick of alphas this week, I could spit! I should just let you two kill each other, and be done with the whole thing! You're both so arrogant and selfish-"

Dean narrowed his gaze. "You done?"

Sam didn't often respond to Dean's powerful alpha voice. But this time, it reverberated in his chest. Castiel might have had the most cutting stare he had ever encountered, but his own brother's voice could throw Sam into submission in an instant. There had only been perhaps four times in his life that Sam could remember Dean taking that bruising tone with him. It was their father's voice, and it was to be obeyed.

The older brother took a breath. "Sammy, I'm sorry. You're right."

He could not yet speak, nor even raise his eyes.

"You're right. You don't belong to me. And you're an adult, and I've got no right to try to take charge of your decisions. But, Sam, I am your big brother. And I'm entitled to protect you. It's my job. Not because the law says so."

"Because Dad said so," Sam whispered hoarsely.

Dean sighed. "Sam, you tell me what you want, and we will make it work. But don't you ever tell me I can't protect you. Hate me for it. But I would spend my last breath to keep you safe, and that has nothing in the world to do with being your alpha."

Sam nodded slowly. He let out a jagged breath. "Dean, he's a good man. And I trust him. I won't ask you to trust him, not yet. But, dude, you gotta trust me. Trust me that this...This is the last thing I ever wanted my whole life, because it terrified me, and I'm not afraid anymore," he hissed. "Cas...I can't explain it, Dean. Dad would hate it. I know you hate it. But it's right for me. I'm going to pair with him. And I don't need your blessing, but I'd like your support."

Castiel looked beyond Sam's shoulder to lock his gaze with Dean's. "I don't want to own your brother, Dean. I want the chance to love him. And if I fail him, you can tear me apart. If I hurt him...He'll do it himself."

Dean looked from one face to the other. The desire to punch Castiel was subsiding very slightly. "Yeah," he said in defeat. "Yeah, he would."

Sam sighed with relief, and gripped his brother's arm. "Thank you," he said softly.

He shook his head, and looked away from Castiel completely. "What do we...I mean, you just gonna retire? That's it? We do a weekend hunt at a music school, gank a witch, and boom-I'm on my own?"

Sam glanced at Castiel. "We, um...we need to talk to you about that..."

***

Castiel drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel. His flight had been late, and now the traffic was terrible; he was exhausted. Thirteen days in Venice, playing for the Osphere Benefit Concert, had worn him out. His booking agent had packed his schedule with as many events and performances as she could talk him into while in Europe. In the end, he had raised awareness for the cause, not to mention enough money from concert sales alone to send several omegas through a four-year music program. If the legislation he was backing went through this summer, those omegas would even be able to seek actual degrees. Michael thought he had lost his mind, but he was hardly in a position to stop him. Michael was no Carver Força, and Castiel was no longer a young alpha who needed to please his family. As Dean Winchester had put it recently, he was the Robert Plant of the violin. The analogy was ridiculous in a hundred ways, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same.

Dean.

Castiel smiled to himself fondly. After the first two years of posturing and sniping, something had shifted so gradually neither of them had even noticed. Perhaps it was the way Sam always wore a smile when he had both his alphas in his space. Maybe each of them had simply mellowed with age. Whatever it was, at some point, it had ceased to be a matter of tolerating one another for Sam's sake, and was now a mutual, respectful friendship.

Not that it looked that way from the outside.

"Cashole! What the hell took so long? I thought I was going to have to go get your ass and drag you here."

He felt his smirk fade into a soft smile as his eyes fell on his omega, sitting next to his brother quietly outside the cafe. "Hello, Sam," he breathed once he was close enough.

Sam moved his bag to make room for him. He waited in patience for his alpha to touch his fingers lightly, and when he did, his hazel eyes, warm gray in this light, slipped closed in relief. "You're home," he sighed happily.

Castiel nodded. "So are you," he whispered.

They shared a smile, and then Dean was talking about the hunt, around his sandwich and coffee, and Castiel sat back to listen as well as he could. He usually enjoyed Dean's stories, though he suspected the most dangerous details were redacted somewhat for his sake. But after having been away from his omega for so many weeks this time, he could focus on nothing but Sam's thumb brushing constantly over his own long fingers.

Sam fell easily back into their comfortable pattern, even after weeks of being on the road with Dean. He was quieter at Castiel's side, more reserved in public, and he let his alphas converse freely with little comment. He allowed Castiel to order his coffee for him, and simply smiled at the waitress. If he chose not to do these things, it made Castiel uncomfortable, but he had never said a word about it, not since the first week they had met. In the spirit of compromise, Sam did his best to remain outwardly passive, at least in public.

He lowered his eyes for Castiel, but he refused to do so for anyone else. As he had explained early in their relationship, it was his way of acknowledging Castiel's values, the way Castiel respected his own. And the alpha had come to understand that it was a relief for Sam too, to not always have to maintain his dominance and strength for the sake of pride. Castiel could buy his tickets into a museum, so long as Sam was still choosing what exhibits he wanted to view. Castiel could go with him to register for courses, but it was Sam's choice to take them. Castiel could have his muted display of affection in public, so long as he understood that Sam would be ripping his clothes off the moment they were alone.

It wasn't a bad thing to compromise, Castiel thought.

The opposite was true when it was just the three of them. Castiel could expect the next few days while the brothers were home to be loud, obnoxious and scandalous within the privacy of the house. Castiel would bite his tongue when Dean interrupted him when he spoke, and Sam fell into the same habit. He would tolerate the way Sam wrestled with his brother, or drank beer from the bottle, or ate on the couch. He would likely retreat to his instruments room when Clint Eastwood came out, especially the ones with the chimpanzee. He would ascend to his bedroom when Sam and Dean began shouting at one another through a ball game.

Because later, Sam would come to bed, happy and content, and he would be ready to let Castiel take care of him again. Dean would leave them alone to take small solo hunts, and then come back a few weeks later to tell Sam he had found them a case he needed backup for. Castiel's heart ached with knowing how dangerous it all was, but he knew better than to stand in the way. So he kissed his omega and made him promise to return to him in a single, whole piece, and the brothers would be on their way again.

"Cas?" Sam whispered as Dean paused in his story to talk privately with the waitress.

He placed his hand on the omega's neck. "Yes, Sam."

"I'm happy. Like this. With you."

His heart filled to overflowing with those words. "I'm glad, Sam."

"Are you?"

He looked up from their intertwined fingers. "Am I what? Glad you're happy? Sam, nothing in the world is more-"

Sam was laughing quietly. "No. No, Cas. Are you happy?"

In Castiel Força's mind, there was always a song playing. Whenever he was truly happy in the past few years, it was Stairway to Heaven. He smiled. "Yes, Sam. I'm very, very happy."

_Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there's still time to change the road you're on..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feliz Aniversário. 
> 
> ~Posing

**Author's Note:**

> Comments keep me writing!!
> 
> ~Posing


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